


Detachment

by Kerica



Series: Solahss with Shakarian [3]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Backstory, Earthborn (Mass Effect), PTSD, Sole Survivor (Mass Effect), Solipsism, Thane is a good bro, solahss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 12:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14355831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerica/pseuds/Kerica
Summary: Rated M for reliving awful times----Thane understands the need Kerica Shepard has to explain her past in a way no one else would get or even allow her to talk about in the first place without judgment. He also understands the need for silence as the story is told. So he does just that. Listens to her story as she has listened to his.---For the Theme, Memories





	Detachment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [caprithebunny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caprithebunny/gifts).



It was the third time Thane slipped into _solipsism_ , a verbal explanation of one his memories. Kerica swallowed thick and since her fingers were already laced in front of her in a mirror of what Thane was doing, she gripped her hands tighter. Hearing him talk was always so fascinating. “Ever since you did that the first time, I’ve had a question brewing, but I have been kind of hesitant to ask.”

Thane double-blinked at her, observing her, before he nodded his head just so, “Ask away, Shepard. I will answer to the best of my ability; you know that.”

Kerica chewed on the inside of her cheek, before she took a breath and let it out slowly through her nose, “Chakwas calls it dissociation. I’ve had this issue since before I was rebuilt. There’s some things that refused to be fixed, especially if it’s PTSD. Slipping into a memory, freezing up, even if you don’t speak it out loud like that, like solipsism. You get lost in it, trapped, until something can break you out or you come out of it yourself. It happens to me mostly when I’m sitting alone in the quiet. I try not to let it control me so it doesn’t disable me from doing my job as Commander.” She clenched her jaw which caused it to tick. Thane was always so patient. It was something she missed from Liara, being able to rant or ramble about anything with no judgement. “Would you hear me? Talk about it?”

“You wish to mimic the experience?” Thane asked with a curious wave of his hand. While his face was quite stoic, if one knew how to look, he was expressive with his hands almost like Tali was since you couldn’t see through the facemask. “Speak what you see in your mind’s eye as one would write a book, perhaps?”

“If you wouldn’t find that offensive, of course. I’m not trying to…”

“Shepard.” Thane was quick, his hand making a firm jerk, “You need not make excuses or apologies. I am not a doctor. I am not about to put what you say in this room on a report, in confidentiality or not. You trust me to understand your words and your experiences in a way that you do not with Dr. Chakwas. If you were to say, try and write anything down in an autobiography for example, you would most likely get lost in the thoughts instead of writing it. That’s a special kind of gift writers have that you and I do not possess. So tell me your story. Of course I will listen.”

A thick swallow and Kerica forced down the twisting in her stomach. She stared at the wall behind Thane’s head until her eyes unfocused. “An orphanage. Laughing and playing, scraped knees and bandaged chins, children coming and going. Friends made and lost. Mostly never made at all. Each year that goes by, viability goes down for being adopted. Smart children know this. Easy to give up. Runaway, runaway...school kept sending me back. It was another form of prison. Rules and regulations that didn’t make sense. Repetition, repetition. It’s all so stupid, doesn’t feel like you’re getting anywhere. You’re smart, you get picked on. Jock, preppy, cheerleader, emo, labels labels labels. Cliques and squads. Twelve...walking back to the orphanage. Bullies taunt and jeer. A bruised cheek.” A feint ghost of a smirk, “Not mine. I get suspended. Runaway, runaway, this time for good.”

Kerica licked her lips and she could picture the surroundings. “Dingy streets, ratty beds, holes in the walls. Better than the orphanage? No. Do I regret it? Yes and no. Taught me a lot of hard life lessons real fast. Learned to fight dirty; came into my own morals. Learned to read people. Read them wrong, well, you might get stabbed if you’re lucky. Shot, most likely. Learned the secrets of the Turians with their sub-vocals just by observation. Never had a problem understanding no one gave a shit. They didn’t care anyway at the orphanage, why would they care now?”

Spirits, Thane’s silence was a blessing. Chakwas would’ve said five million things by now. Liara maybe piped in here and there. Kerica took a breath again and kept going, “Lot of people tried. To kill. To force. Most of the time, all that’s necessary is to be faster, smarter. Not always stronger. Small, easy target. Bullshit. Small target big bite.”

Shaking her head, Kerica was always proud of herself for persevering. “Fight, fight, live, year by year...then eighteen. Signed paperwork and first steps onto a spaceship. The feeling of military clothing was like silk compared to ripped and tattered bits. Regulations and rules were something that could be accepted and learned. Easier to get somewhere by playing the game. Rising ranks. Thought…” Her breath hitched, “Ruined it all...stupid, stupid thresher maws. Heard it...rumbling in the deep. Move, move...they don’t...like rocks. Only open spaces…” Her body shook and she closed her eyes now, “So much screaming and blood and cries. Had to survive alone...someone hear the beacon…”

Kerica shuddered, “The metal...secure channel. Replicated. Tossed onto that forsaken planet. Every thresher maw dies. Praise Garrus for the work on the Mako. Feels better a little at a time.”

Silence fell over them and Thane put his knuckles under his chin, his signal for thinking deeply. When he spoke it was a whisper, “Will you come back later, Shepard? I may have a request of you, but I need to double-check my sources.”

Kerica cleared her throat and her face returned to it’s usual business facade, “Not a problem, Thane. Thank you for listening.”

Not too long after, when she crossed Mouse she was immediately reminded of herself. The conversation that followed was enlightening...and heartwarming.

The looks she shared with Thane were enough to make her appreciate everything a little bit more.


End file.
